


Triggers

by Skyler10



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Courage, Dimension Cannon, F/M, Introspection, PTSD, Pete's World, Wine, mentions of mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler10/pseuds/Skyler10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set shortly before using the dimension cannon for the first time, Rose finds the courage under a starless sky to face her demons, especially the internal ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triggers

**Author's Note:**

> "Drabble" fulfillment for TPP. (C’mon, no one is surprised my “drabble” is around ten times longer than it’s supposed to be, right? Some day I will write a real 100-word fic. Today is not that day.) – “Without”

There were a lot of things Rose didn’t know about before coming to this universe a year and a half ago.

For one example, the various meanings of the word “trigger.”

The literal – as in she now knew how to fire every blaster in Torchwood’s arsenal. But also – and more relevant to why she was sitting on her balcony at midnight with a massive glass of wine and a crumpled up prescription for an antidepressant – she had learned all about the figurative meanings of the word.

She knew her PTSD triggers. The memories that would keep her up at night. The feeling of anxiety in her gut. The slow slide into the apathy of forgetting the point of it all and wondering why she survived. What to do when she woke herself up screaming and how to convince her body she was no longer falling into the void, at least, not physically.

She knew the triggers for her heartache as well. What broke her the hardest and how sharp the shards would be.

Oddly, it was often the happy things. That’s probably what surprised her the most. It wasn’t always the sad movies or the songs on the radio or the rainy days.

It was experiencing the joys of life without him.

It felt wrong. Even in contexts they had never experienced together: the birth of her brother, her first successful mission, making friends with new aliens, going on holiday with her family.

 _He should be here,_ her empty hand told her.

His arms should be wrapping around hers from behind right now, a rumble in his chest as he hummed his appreciation for the crisp night air. He should be rambling in her ear about some trivial fact of the universe he thought would impress her. He should be stealing her glass of wine when his ran out and laughing and then pouring them both some more as it went to their heads and reddened their cheeks. Kissing her as they swayed to the soft melody of the street musician trying to make a quid or two from passersby. If he were here, he’d hum along and say how he was there when the song was written, at least, in their home universe.

No… no. That’s not what she was supposed to be fantasizing about.

She should be _there_. She should be entwining her fingers with his as they ran, outsmarting enemies, saving lives, causing trouble. She should be smirking at him from the jump seat in the control room, checking him out when he wasn’t looking, handing him parts when he asked. She should be there, learning to fly the TARDIS and grinning at him from the other side of the console and collapsing to the grating on a hard landing, rolling with him in giddy excitement for whatever strange world awaited them. Returning home to their ship where she felt the safest in all the multiverse.

There was another trigger – a literal one – that she had been playing with.

A dimension cannon.

It was either going to dissolve her into particles or send her home. Back to him. A messenger sent to get help.

She took a swig of wine and gulped it down before facing the crux of her mission: the empty sky. Not even inner-city London was ever this starless. It was like the heavens were mocking her. Taking the stars away to boast in victory, to take even the reminders of him out of her life, one by one.

But they would not win.

She could do this without him.

Setting down her wine glass and tucking the psychiatrist’s note into her pocket, she unfolded her legs from under her and stood facing the night. Below, the city bustled with cabs and lights and clubs and pubs. But she looked up.

It was a challenge.

She was Agent Rose Tyler. She was the Defender of the Earth; that’s what he had called her with pride shining in his eyes. She was nothing if not resilient and strong and brave. She was the Bad Wolf, for goodness’ sake. She was more than her triggers. She was more than her broken heart and her all-consuming loneliness and her oceanic waves of grief, washing away her every happiness until it was wet with his absence and her tears. She was made of more than missing him.

She was half of a pair, it’s true, but a pair of something far too powerful to be kept apart.

If she ever wanted a chance to prove herself worthy of him, this was it. Not that he would ever ask such a thing, or even think of it, but she needed to do this for herself.

She needed to know what she was made of.

And if she had to pull a few “triggers” to get there, then she’d take the damn pills and face each one by one until she was back in his arms.

Because if there was anything she had learned in this universe, it was how to live without him so that hopefully, one day soon, she would never have to again.


End file.
